I don’t have internet access at home yet so I’m going to a new internet cafe every couple of days to catch up. I have to say that the green internet cafe next to Pigeon Park is both the most high-tech and the most infuriatingly complicated. I mean it’s the only place where you actually have to turn the computer on before you use it. And there’s this thing where you have to pay a deposit on a card and have it refunded after… I mean, what’s wrong with good old-fashioned “sit at computer number five and come up to the desk when you’re finished”?

Also, the browser won’t let me open new windows, only tabs. I hate tabs.

At least the service isn’t as bad as that internet cafe that closed down a while ago where I was actually mocked by the staff for printing out an image they didn’t realise was supposed to be a parody.

I’m moving. Hopefully next weekend I’ll be able to start cartooning again. In the mean time I might as well keep Blogging. It keeps away the fear that if I don’t continuously exist on the internet, I won’t exist at all.

This week’s front-cover Time article is on how great Twitter is. I could vomit. I’ve experimentally been following the Twitter account of one person I highly regard, just to see if I shouldn’t be too dismissive of the system, but even he posts things like “When I die and go to hell, I’ll be thrown into a pit of spiders and forced to eat my way out.” I think there should be system where people have to wait 24 hours before posting their twitters, just so they have more time than just the typing of 140 characters to reflect on whether their comment is actually of any interest. Mass communication isn’t compatible with the kind of impulsiveness that Twitter provides.

The Bain trial is over, but people keep going on about it. The worst article I read was an exploitative article in the Dom, talking about the lives of all the murdered Bains and telling us we should be ashamed of ourselves for using them as our entertainment. It’s like eating a hamburger and having a vegeratian come at you and tell you the life story of the cow you’re eating. Actually, you’re only interested in the taste and sustenance of the food, they’re the one the one exploiting the cow for their own smug self-satisfaction.